Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Bahamas and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Mary Jane Girls to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Chrome,
Blossom Toes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Quadrant,
Talk Talk,
EPMD,
Make Up,
Kevin Saunderson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Angry Samoans,
Rod Modell,
Danielle Patucci,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Motorama,
Groovy Waters,
The Dead C,
the Germs,
Tres Demented,
Ultra Naté,
ABBA,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mission of Burma,
Alton Ellis,
The Birthday Party,
Connie Case,
F. McDonald,
A Certain Ratio,
Grauzone,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Searchers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Junior Murvin,
Dead Boys,
Magma,
Marine Girls,
Japan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Marcia Griffiths,
FM Einheit,
Stetsasonic,
Bobby Womack,
kango's stein massive,
Darondo,
the Soft Cell,
Kurtis Blow,
Radio Birdman,
Pierre Henry,
Interpol,
Black Pus,
Ice-T,
Flamin' Groovies,
Youth Brigade,
the Human League,
Minnie Riperton,
Ralphi Rosario,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.